


Love Language

by mysophobe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A hint of smut, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Getting Together, Japanese Team UshiOi, Jealous Ushiwaka, M/M, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:28:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24351337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysophobe/pseuds/mysophobe
Summary: Every person has their own love language.Oikawa Tooru had one that's unique; his love language was difficult, complicated, too much work for a normal person to learn.Good thing Ushijima Wakatoshi was far from normal.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 282





	Love Language

**Oikawa had always thought that every person had their own love language; they had their own way of showing love and affection, their own way of handling relationships, most especially problems, should one ever arise. He thought it was a unique thing for each person. No two people were the same when it comes to how they love, because everything that had commenced in their lives prior to their falling in love had some kind of contribution to that very language.**

**He learned that some people like to wait. They wait years upon years for the right person who would understand their language better than anyone else, and when they find them, they stay for as long as their intermingling words would ever allow. But there are also some who were impatient. They try and try and try to find the person who would be able to crack the codes in their actions, only to fail, time and time again.**

**Oikawa's parents were the former type. He had grown up watching how beautiful a poem his parents weaved together with their verses. Even from a young age, he had already wanted that kind of thing. Craved it. Burned for it.**

**With much envy in his heart, he trekked a rough path in search for that right person. He went through so many people, broken so many hearts, got his heart broken so many times, over and over again—all because his love language was far too complex and far too difficult to understand, much less decipher, and no one was willing to take the chance.**

**Or maybe there was one.**

* * *

**I.**

"You really should have come to Shiratorizawa, you know," a low voice rumbled from behind Oikawa, making him jolt up and turn around with an accusatory glare already morphing in his eyes. "We would have been unstoppable." 

"We would have been unstoppable, my ass!" He mocked, his lips turning into a grimace as he hiccupped. "You've been so repetitive over these past three years and I am so done hearing that!" 

The brunette eyed the violet-and-white jersey plastered across Ushijima's broad shoulders, his distaste evident even through the stream of tears that continued down his reddened cheeks. Once he thinks he has already glared at the fabric enough for it to possibly catch fire and burn, he turned back around, dipping low to splash his face with water and urge himself to calm down.

"I still do not understand your repulsion to the idea. If I had you as my setter, we wouldn't both be wallowing in the regret of losing—,"

"See, that's the point! I don't want to be in your team, Ushiwaka-chan. My pride would have never allowed that, after being beaten so many times by you and your team. And news flash! The world doesn't revolve around you and your damn lefty spikes and arm-breaking serves. Coming to Shiratorizawa was never about you at all!" He heaved a deep breath after, his outburst, well-hidden over so many years of bitter defeat, finally escaping out into the open, coating the air in the bathroom with palpable tension and deafening silence.

"Volleyball is all about winning, isn't it?" The taller male had the nerve to say after a moment. "It was all about winning and you lost that chance when you decided your pride and your hatred towards me weighed heavier than victory. I think that was your mistake." 

Oikawa Tooru, for the first time ever in his miserable life, was stunned to silence by none other than the stoic Ushijima Wakatoshi. He had nothing to combat that. After all, wasn't that the cold, hard truth? 

"For the record," the fellow brunet added, fishing around for something in his bag. Wakatoshi’s hand emerged from the bag with a purple handkerchief. He jerked his hand towards Oikawa's direction, his eyes intense and urging Tooru to take it. And he did. "You have your own brand of arm-breaking serves, too." 

With that, he turned around and exited the comfort room, leaving Tooru a mess of tears and confusion with bitterness metallic on his tongue.

One thing rang out clearly in his mind though: 

For the record, he never once hated Ushijima Wakatoshi. 

* * *

**II.**

Oikawa Tooru is 21, fresh from yet another break-up and fresh from a match their collegiate team lost because of him when Ushijima stalked towards him and slammed a hand against the locker door right behind his head, successfully pinning the setter against the cold metal. 

"Wha–What is wrong with you, Ushiwaka-chan?!" He yelled, his surprise and the small dot of fear causing his voice to rise an octave. "What the hell?!" 

"If you're going to let your romantic conquests get in the way of this team's victory, then why do you bother involving yourself in such nonsensical connections in the first place?" 

Ushijima Wakatoshi was never emotional. He was a robot, always displaying a perfectly calm and detached face, even through the harshest of defeats. Or at least Oikawa thinks so.

He also thinks that the person seething just inches from him was not Ushijima Wakatoshi at all. Maybe the aliens have finally decided to take him for good and control his body in his stead. But putting that aside, he had more important things to think about. Like the rapidly bubbling anger in his gut.

"Hah," he exhaled, his breath hot as he straightened his spine and got into Ushijima's space, a pointer finger jabbing against the spiker's chest just as the man was about to pull back and walk away. Oikawa's pride was too big to let him get the last word like that. "What do you fucking know about romantic conquests, huh, Wakatoshi? It's not like you have many to speak of. My personal life is not yours to meddle with!"

The other brunet's jaw became more prominent as he gritted his teeth inside his mouth. "I know enough. And it is, if it's hindering this team from winning."

"Oh, I know what this is. Are you envious?" He could almost taste the venom he was spitting. Vaguely, he heard their captain herding the entire team out of the locker room and give the two their space. It was a damn good thing they weren't at an away game. "Are you envious because people flock me, Ushiwaka-chan? Envious that I get all the girls in my side, begging for me to give their poor little hearts a chance at love? Envious that I get to spend days and nights with someone to love and you don't or maybe—,"

The spiker grabbed Oikawa's hand with his left, his grip tight as he spoke through his teeth: "The only thing I am envious about is that they get your love and I don't."

With that he closed his eyes and exhaled, long and slow, letting go of Tooru's hand in the process. A moment later, his eyes flew open once more, a little softer now, more detached, than they were a millisecond ago. With less anger in his voice but more threat, he added: "Fix your game, Oikawa. I wouldn't want to ask the coach to bench you." 

Oikawa Tooru was benched for the second practice game that day. 

* * *

**III.**

"Ushijima Wakatoshi and Oikawa Tooru debuting as members of the Japanese Team," the headline of Volleyball Weekly read, showcasing a picture of Tooru just as he was about to toss, and Ushijima mid-spike. 

If he were as immature as he was when he was 18, he would have burned the entire magazine and all its twin copies. But he wasn't. Instead, he gently slipped the material into a slot on his bookshelf.

For safekeeping.

* * *

**IV.**

"I am in love with you," Wakatoshi muttered against the pale skin covering Tooru's collarbone, accompanying his words with a soft nibble. "Have been, for years."

The brunet still finds it hard to believe, sometimes. That Ushijima Wakatoshi was just very dumb at love, even from a young age, so his way of getting to know his little crush was to force him to attend his school. The first he heard the story about other man's long-harbored feelings, he almost wanted to laugh. He didn't, though, because Ushijima Wakatoshi was anything but amused that night. He was serious, genuine as he poured all of his feelings out into the open, free for Oikawa to do as he pleased. He could have stepped on it, trashed it around like he had wanted to do with the man when he was 14. But he didn't. He gave it a chance.

"Again," he sighed, his back arching into Wakatoshi's chest as he dug his head against the pillow to allow the spiker more space. "Tell me again." His heels pressed against the back of the olive-head's thighs, desperate for more of the searing pleasure he was receiving.

"I love you," and Wakatoshi repeated it three times, in tune with the smooth thrusting of his hips against Tooru's pelvis. "I love you and I will never tire of letting you know." Maybe it was just Oikawa, but it felt like Ushijima knew him well. It was like he knew, without being told, that the setter was always desperate for validation and thirsty for reassurance because he responded to it. He gave everything that Oikawa needed, even without a request from the brunet.

"Kiss me." And he did.

Wakatoshi kissed him like he was the most precious gem in the world and he was afraid of breaking it, but at the same time he kissed like Oikawa was the last inhale of oxygen and he was on Mars.

Tooru came with a sharp cry of his lover's name, his insides squeezing and encouraging the other male to his own orgasm. The groan that mingled with Tooru's high-pitched whine made his hips jerk with over-stimulation.

"I love you, too."

And it was the first time he had ever admitted it out loud.

* * *

**V.**

"Ushiwaka-chan."

"Hmm?" The man in question hummed, stopping in his tracks, in the middle of the park, to turn around and gaze at Tooru with question in his eyes.

It was one of Ushijima's many quirks. If one thing distracts him enough, he would drop anything he was doing in order to focus his attention solely on where he wants it to be. Often times, when Tooru would call out his name as they walked side-by-side, he would stop right where he was, even if it was in the middle of the busy crossroads of Shibuya, and focus those olive eyes on Tooru's face. It had always been endearing, and admittedly, quite hilarious as well. 

"Do you know what a love language is?" He asked, curiosity heavy in his tone as he took a step to close the distance between their bodies. His hand dropping the other's larger one in order to snake his arms around Wakatoshi's frame. He kept his head back just enough to be able to still look at his boyfriend, though. 

"I think I may have heard it in passing," he replied, voice as monotonous as ever. "I may have read about it or heard one of your fangirls gushing about it once or twice back in high school." 

Trust Ushiwaka to remember something from that long ago, he thought with a chuckle.

"I just wanted to say..." He dragged out his last syllable, eyes glinting with mischief as he smiled sweetly at his lover.

"Say what, Tooru?" His forehead furrowed a tiny bit as he regarded Oikawa's expression. The adoration was still blatant in his eyes, though, and it made a sweet warmth spread withing the setter's chest.

Over the years of their relationship, Oikawa thinks he has become well-versed enough in Wakatoshi's love language. He was stoic, most of the time, but even the slightest quirk in his eyebrows can display his annoyance, the smallest tilt of his lips can display his amusement. His eyes, though, he always thought they were emotionless, but seeing them now, at a moment when his mother-tongue might just be Ushijima Wakatoshi, Tooru thinks the man's eyes expressed everything he ever needed to know.

_"Thank you for learning and understanding my love language."_


End file.
